The Beauty and Grotesque of a Common Life - Sunday

My autumn

from the suicide attempt survivor's journal:It was a long weekend. Long and painful and revealing as I try to cope with this reality and my new way of life. At last, I can immerse into the solitude which now I realize has always been there, only I was too afraid to come to terms with myself back in those days. I was lonely and I thought that social life would alleviate my desperate craving for something undefined, yet not socially related: being not alone was a smoke screen I put up to mask the need to meet the real me and I did that by feeling I owed something to others (friends, acquaintances). I didn't want to let them down and mostly, I didn't want to be considered weird and marginalized, although deep down I was completely uncomfortable with all that social interaction. Luckily, my concealment skills served my well to create the perfect camouflage so that no one could even get a glimpse of what was hidden underneath my smiling and joyful surface. Inside, actually, I was hurting, mostly for not having the guts to be myself in the company of others, but then again, if I were to act accordingly with my suppressed and introverted nature, there would have been no others around me. That paradox ate me up inside and I wouldn't realize that I was actually building myself up to a strong crisis (which ultimately crowned my empty life with the ultimate void). These kind of thoughts crossed my mind during the entire weekend as I roamed the streets of the city at nights. Daylight was too much for me to bear and at the same time I felt the walls crumbling in over me. I had to get out of there, I began dwelling in a childish terror as if some kind of monster would jump out of my closet and put a straight razor in my hand again, only this time it would be different. I wanted it, I still want it desperately, only it's not the same feeling anymore and that annoys me to the extent of trying to seek some safe heaven in chemical relief. NO! I decided I had to swallow this glass of poison as it is, I won't try to dilute it neither with chemicals, nor with alcohol, I need to feel, to feel that I am alive, pointless as I am, pointless as it might be.Autumn is the worst season when it comes to taking your own life, respectively surviving a suicide attempt. The dying nature, sad and strong colour tones, the sad joyous folks walking around in contemplation of this beauty as if they've never seen autumn in their entire lives, all these aspects contribute to a picture I start to loather, although I used to enjoy it to some extent. I think I will quit my job and look for something more secluded from the tumult of society. I need to walk forward, away from the crowd and towards my freedom.